


Because You Loved Me

by TheOnlySPL



Category: Legend of the Seeker
Genre: F/F, Family
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-04-01
Updated: 2014-05-31
Packaged: 2017-12-07 02:14:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,327
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/742976
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheOnlySPL/pseuds/TheOnlySPL
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dennee always saw the best there was in Denna... A story about a Confessor, a Mord'Sith, and their new family.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Part I: Love Doesn't Ask Why

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: Titles and lyrics are from Celine Dion songs, sadly I do not own them...

**PART I: Love Doesn't Ask Why**

_♫ Love doesn't ask why,_  
 _It speaks from the heart,  
_ _Never explains. ♫_

_..._

"It's a girl!" Denna smiled as she held the newborn child in her arms.

Dennee was exhausted, she had been in labor for hours and it was finally over. It hadn't been any easier on Denna though, having had to deliver the child. Denna had absolutely no experience in such a situation and she freaked out on Dennee several times during the process, but through all the pain and the screaming, the two of them managed to get through it. A new life had begun, and the world as they knew it would never be the same.

Denna cleaned the newborn Confessor to the best of her ability before bringing her to Dennee. The Mord'Sith felt oddly attached to the child and refused, if only briefly, to hand the newborn over to her partner. When Dennee took her into her arms, the Mord'Sith felt… something she could never explain.

"Hello beautiful." Dennee spoke to the miracle child, her voice nearly inaudible as she attempted to catch her breath.

"She has your lips," Denna whispered.

"And your eyes." Dennee smiled.

"Are you sure?" she almost chuckled, "Our eyes are so similar."

Dennee let out a little chuckle. "Well, she definitely has your hair."

Denna touched the top of her head as she looked down at the nearly bald baby in the Confessor's arms. "Very funny," she frowned.

Dennee looked over to her briefly, a thin smirk on her lips.

The Mord'Sith rolled her big blue eyes before moving closer to the Confessors that now made up what she could call her family. She sat next to Dennee, smiling down at the little person they had made together.

She brought her bare hand out, needing more than anything to touch the flesh of pure innocence once more. She could hardly imagine she had ever been so fragile herself… having been taken to the temple – her new ‘family’ – at no more than three years of age. Tiny fingers soon wrapped themselves around her finger. It was as if the little Confessor could sense the inner pain this Mord’Sith felt. At that very moment, Denna knew that she would never – ever let anything like that happen to her child. This child would grow up in far better conditions than either of her mothers had. There would be no hate, only… _love_. And if there was one thing Denna had learned from her partner, it was most definitely how to love… and be loved.

“What will we call her?” Dennee asked, breaking the Mord’Sith from her thoughts.

“What?” Denna tilted her head ever so slightly, clearly lost.

“She needs a name.” Dennee knew something was weighing on her lover, but she dared not bring it up, at least not quite yet.

“She’s as beautiful as her mother,” Denna smiled down at their child, knowing all too well that Dennee was looking at her as she spoke, her large eyes would be glistening at this very moment. “It seems only fitting, that she be named after her.” She knew Dennee was fighting the urge to attack her with an excited hug, so she added, “We will name her Denna Jr.” She turned to look at Dennee, with the most conniving smirk she could offer.

Dennee’s jaw dropped. “Oh no,” she shook her head. “I’m the one that carried her for nine months, _I’m_ her mother. Which would make this precious little girl _Dennee_ Jr., of course.”

“Oh, really?” Denna raised her brow, “And that would make me what exactly? She’s my child too.”

“You’re her father, obviously.” The Confessor shrugged.

Denna stared at her blankly for a moment.

Dennee acted as though she was too preoccupied with the bundle in her arms to notice, but inside, she was laughing.

“Do I look like a man to you?” Denna spoke, at last. Gripping one of her agiels to control herself.

“Well,” Dennee shrugged once more, “If the boot fits…”

“Oh,” The Mord’Sith tilted her head ever so slightly, the pain of the agiel comforting her nerves only slightly, “If you weren’t holding our baby right now…”

Dennee turned her head to look at her, waiting for her to finish her ‘threat’.

“I would agiel you _so_ hard.” Her eyes narrowed as her low, sultry voice spoke.

“Would you now?” The Confessor licked her lower lip tentatively, clearly displaying her thirst for the ‘torture’.

The Mord’Sith shook her head in faked despair, “I can’t even scare you with my agiels anymore?”

“Depends what you mean by ‘scare’” she winked.

Denna bit her lip to stop herself from laughing.

Smiling, Dennee returned her gaze to the infant in her arms and hummed quietly to their daughter, rocking her ever so gently.

The blonde woman leaned her head on her lover’s shoulder, allowing herself to feel the soothing movement the Confessors shared. She closed her eyes as the three of them swayed in rhythm. It wasn’t long before her mind began to wander off, back into that painful place. Being in this peaceful room with the two most beautiful people she had ever known, she almost felt she could cry without consequence – _almost_.

Having spent the past few years with Dennee Amnell, one would think the Mord’Sith might have brought down her defenses in a larger sense. But that hadn’t been the case for Denna. There had been some weak moments, sure, but opening up was a daily struggle for this Sister of the Agiel. Deep in her heart, she trusted the Confessor wholly and completely, but there was always that part of her, the root of her Mord’Sith nature, that would not allow her to break free.

The soothing motion had led the tiny Confessor into a peaceful sleep, lovingly cradled by her Confessor mother.

Dennee removed one hand from under their unnamed baby and gently placed it over her lover’s. “What is it?” She asked softly, “Something is weighing on you, I can tell.” She winked in attempt to lighten the weight on her lover. “Whatever it is, you know you can tell me.”

Denna, fighting the urge to weep, shook her head slightly.

“Please Denna.” Dennee pleaded with _that_ look in her eyes; the look that made Denna weak in the knees – not that she would ever admit it.

“I don’t –” her voice cracked and she wanted to punish herself for it, but Dennee squeezed her hand gently and just like that, the walls around her weakened. “I don’t want her to suffer the way we did. I want her to…”

“Have a childhood? A _real_ childhood?” Dennee completed her sentence, letting her know she shared her thoughts.

“Yes.” Denna whispered back.

Noticing the unintentional sigh that had escaped her lover’s lips, the Confessor pulled Denna’s hand with her own to lie under the child as she slept. “She will.”

After a long, serene silence, Denna whispered. “She still needs a name.”

“I know.” The Confessor purred.

“Something with… meaning.”

“To both of us.” Dennee added.

“Exactly.”

“Like Kahlan.” Dennee teased.

At the mention of the name, Denna jolted upright. “That is not even a little funny.” She spoke without even the slightest attempt to mask her hatred for the name.

“ _Shhhh_ , not so loud!” The Confessor warned, “You’ll wake Kahlan.”

“We are not naming our daughter Kahlan.” Denna glared, with little effort to lower her tone. “That would be like naming her Cara!”

Dennee gasped. “She killed my first born, my mate, my sisters, _and_ me! How dare you suggest that disgusting name?”

“And your sister tried to kill me _twice_.” Denna stared her in the eyes, knowing full well her point had been made, but still she felt the need to add, “And if she knew about us, about this child – she would kill us all.”

And though she knew those words needed to be spoken, the Mord’Sith regretted them the instant she saw that single tear fall from her lover’s deep blue eyes.

“I… I’m sorry.” Denna’s voice cracked.

“No.” Dennee’s voice had been reduced to that of a sobbing young child as she forced the words from her lips, “You’re right. _I’m_ sorry.”

“I…” Denna brought a hand up to wipe her lover’s tears. She couldn’t quite explain what it was about Dennee Amnell that made her so incredibly vulnerable, no one else could invoke pain within her the way she could. She wouldn’t even have to lift a finger, she didn’t even have to try, it was simply the way she would suffer in silence, with nothing but her eyes to betray her mask of confidence. Seeing the pain in those beautiful eyes of hers was worse than any torture the Mord’Sith had ever endured – more painful than anything she could ever do to her pets. “I l-love you.”

“And I love you.” Dennee said with so much ease that it made a chill run down Denna’s spine.

The blonde mother smiled before leaning in for a sweet taste of her lover’s lips.

When their lips parted, it suddenly dawned on Denna, “our names are so similar…”

“Wow.” Dennee’s voice dropped down in sarcasm. “We’ve been together for three years, and you’re just now realizing this?” she shook her head, “And all this time I thought what they said about blondes was a myth…”

Just as she finished her sentence, she felt a firm hand hard against the back of her head.

“Ow!” she whined, though she failed to mask the hint of playfulness in her voice.

“Need I remind you, Ms. Amnell,” Denna’s voice was flat with annoyance, “that you yourself were a blonde when we first met.”

Dennee glared at the Mord’Sith. “I’m not that person anymore. Different body, different life.” She stuck her tongue out like a bratty eight year old.

Denna rolled her eyes, “I did have a point to make.”

“I see you have two.” The Confessor smirked, her gaze falling to her leather clad chest.

“As do you, mom.” Denna returned her smirk as she wrapped a hand around her lover’s breast squeezing it tenderly. She gasped in shock as warm liquid created a circle around the breast in her hand.

The two women looked at one another for a moment before bursting into laughter.

When their laughter had finally subsided, the Mord’Sith began to mumble, “DenDee… Deena… Den… Dee…”

The Confessor raised her brow, quite disturbed by whatever it was that her lover was doing. Denna however, did not seem to notice the strange look she had been receiving, and thus, the Confessor felt the need to verbalize her thoughts, “What are you doing?”

The blonde stared at her for a moment, as if she had been in a completely different world. But when she saw Dennee’s expression, she answered as though it should be obvious, “I’m trying to combine our names.”

Dennee stared blankly at the mumbling mother.

“So we can name our child.” She added, as though her thoughts should be easily known by her partner.

“That is the dumbest thing I’ve ever –” she paused suddenly, as if lightning had struck, and then excitedly added, “Dennea!”

“Oh! I like that one!” she smiled before mumbling to herself, “I would have thought of it eventually.”

“No you wouldn’t.” she scoffed. “Admit it, I’m a genius!” she teased in that charmingly conniving way she often did.

“What?” the blonde gasped, “But combining our names was _my_ idea!”

The Confessor rolled her eyes and nudged her lover’s shoulder.

“So we’re agreed then? Dennea Amnell.” The Confessor asked, looking down at the beauty that slept peacefully in their arms.

“Yes, I’d say we are.” She sighed inadvertently and then quickly grinned, “That would make you the father, not me.”

The brunette furrowed her brow in confusion.

“She’s taking your family name, not mine.” She smirked. “And if we were ever to…” she hesitated briefly, “be wed, then I as well, would be taking your name.”

“You’re talking marriage, DenDen.” She grinned, while inside she felt a nagging pain in her chest, knowing full well how much it hurt her lover, to not even know her birth family’s name.

“Not that I would ever marry you.” She teased.

“You say that like I would ever say ‘yes’, if you had the guts to ask, that is.” The Confessor challenged.

“Oh,” she narrowed her eyes in response, “like you could ever resist being attached to this sexy beast.”

“Just watch me,” she brought her lips within an inch of her lover’s. “Go on, ask.”

Denna swallowed the lump in her throat, all too tempted by the breath they were now sharing. It wasn’t long before she felt it though, that threatening pinch in her chest, the one that always seemed to control her. No matter how hard she fought, the old Denna always won.

She shook her head slightly and released a deep, silky whisper, “Oh no, it doesn’t work that way, love.”

They stared deep into each other’s eyes, neither willing to break their gaze.

But before either of them could say another word, the door burst open, sending a sharp panic through their veins

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Unfortunately, it may be a while before I can post part 2... Exams and all... But I'd love to know what you think so far!


	2. PART II: That's the Way It Is

**PART II: That's the Way It Is**

__♫_ When you want it the most_   
_There's no easy way out_   
_... Love comes to those_   
_Who believe it _♫__

_..._

She raced through the woods as quickly as her legs would allow her. She could feel her heart's rapid pace, the throbbing rage in her mind, and the unrelenting ambition within her veins. She was so close she could feel it, goose bumps rising on her skin as the wind pounded against her flesh, pulling her long dark hair to flow with the wind behind her, a loose strand stubbornly obstructing her view.

Nothing could stop her now. She hadn't even thought the whole thing through, but the moment she heard that treacherous woman's name, she knew. It was her. And this time, she would get her. This time, she would pay for her crimes. Even if she had to lose her own life in the process, she would make Denna suffer. She could already see it in her mind, and though it frightened her a little, it also excited her. Maybe she was just angry; maybe that woman had just reached the final straw. Or perhaps she was simply going crazy. Whatever it was, she didn't care. All she could see was her hand wrapped around that despicable woman's neck as her magic would condemn the tyrant to death.

Finally, she caught sight of the small cabin, but she didn't stop or even slow down. Instead, she found herself pushing to go even faster, causing an irritating burning sensation to spread through her legs and arms. But she didn't let it get in her way, she did all she could to ignore it, and as she concentrated on her goal, she missed the thick fallen branch on the ground and effectively tripped over it, causing her to topple over and fall flat on her face. She let out an aggravated huff as she propped herself up by her arms. As she lifted herself from the ground she brushed at the fabric of her dress in frustration, attempting to remove some of the dirt that now caked her white dress.

She mumbled something under her breath and shook a leaf out of her hair before continuing towards the cabin door. She didn't bother keep silent or scout for any potential threats; her mind was far too focused on her vengeance to even care. At this point, she was sure she could take out an entire army on her own if she had to, it wouldn't be the first time, after all.

She reached for the door handle, expecting to find it locked, but to her surprise, it wasn't. She turned the knob and pushed the door open. When she entered, she saw no one, which puzzled her. The room was small, though larger than anticipated. It was dark and the only source of light appeared to be a few unlit candles and a small window on the back wall, which was half dressed with a tattered old curtain. As she scanned the room she noted how little it held within its walls; near the window sat three wooden chairs, which all seemed to be broken in some way or another, surrounding a small round wooden table which held a few dirty dishes, a rag, and some fruit. She also spotted a few books on a slanted shelf, a large vase on a stool in the corner which housed an unidentifiable wilted plant, and a ragged old doll on the floor whose hair had become a large clump on top of the faceless toy's little head. The walls were dressed with a few portraits of people she could only assume were the former tenants of the cabin and a stone fireplace which, judging by the two pieces of wood creating an 'x' over it's opening, hadn't been used in a long time. She stepped deeper into the room until she spotted a small hallway. In it she found three doors, the two on either side of the wall were closed, but the one at the end of the hall was slightly ajar which allowed the warm light to pool out from the small space.

Without another thought, she marched towards it, grabbed the handle and swung it open, causing it to bang against the side of the wall before bouncing back towards her. She held her arm out to stop it, she raised her head – her breath a heavy pant – and she glared into the room before her eyes could even register what – or who – was within.

Their heads turned in unison as the door suddenly flew open. There, with reddened flesh, wild hair, and vengeful eyes stood the one known as the Mother Confessor. Her eyes were fixed on the Mord'Sith at first, and only when she saw her sister did her expression change. She batted her eyes, as if unable to believe the sight before her. She opened her mouth, as if to speak, but no words emerged before she closed it again. She could feel the panic rise through her chest and up into her throat, mixing itself into the anger that had firmly planted itself within her. She tried a few more times, the words refusing to escape her grasp, until finally, her sister's name managed to break away from her dry lips.

"… Dennee?" the name came out weak and strained, but at least she was finally beginning to get a grip of her defiant lips.

"Kahlan…" Dennee's eyes grew wide with fear. Her first instinct was to pull the wrapped bundle closer to her heart, needing desperately to hide her from the woman she once admired more than she could ever say.

"What are you doing here? Are you alright?" She took a hesitant step towards her sister but stopped as her eyes wandered to Denna momentarily, taking note of how unnaturally  _close_  she was to her little sister – and not just close, but comfortably so.

Denna, feeling the intruder's gaze upon them, quickly pulled her arms away from her loved ones, equipping herself with screaming agiels behind her back. She did not, however, make any kind of move to attack, choosing instead to wait, as Dennee had urged her many times before, for the attack to become a necessary measure.

"I-" Dennee choked back her words for a moment, struggling to obtain the confidence she needed to face her sister, "I could ask the same of you."

"I'm here for her." She shot a deadly glare towards the Mord'Sith as she emphasized the last word and in response, Denna tightened her grip on her agiels to prevent herself from attacking.

"What do you want from her?" she pulled the bundle even closer, the child's heart now sharing her same frightened pace, before she corrected herself, "from us."

And just as easily as it had come, the anger and panic escaped the older Confessor, only to be replaced by an immediate and overwhelming sense of bewilderment. "Us? What in the Spirits are you talking about, Dennee?" Her voice was higher than usual, squeaky even, as if she couldn't decide whether to scream or cry.

For a moment, all she could do was stare. She read the exhaustion and the exasperation all over her sister's form. Finally, after some inner debate, she decided what she had to do next. Staring determinately into the frazzled expression on her older sister's face she released three simple, yet meaningful, words in one unwavering tone; "I love her." She felt as though her whole heart had been poured into those three little words. And if she hadn't been afraid to reveal her newborn child, she would have pulled the Mord'Sith's hand back into her palm.

There was this mixture of courage and stupidity emanating from the Confessor as she made her declaration, and as she heard the words, Denna wasn't sure whether she should hit her lover on the back of the head or kiss her passionately for it.

The Mother Confessor, however, was completely and utterly dumbstruck. She moved her lips, but once again, words were much too difficult to use.

Dennee repeated herself, making sure her sister would understand that she meant every word. She didn't care what her sister – or anyone – thought of it, she was determined to spend the rest of her life with her new – no – her true family.

The Mother Confessor continued to stare for a while longer, but as she attempted to process what she had just heard, the anger began to creep back up. Her sister was no idiot. She hated the Mord'Sith more than anyone she knew, she would never fall for one, especially not this one. Denna was powerful, manipulative, and by far the most vicious Sister of the Agiel she had ever met. There could only be one explanation for her sister's behavior, that…  _woman_ had to have played with her mind – she must have managed to break Dennee, turning her into one of her precious pets. The idea made her shudder, she could imagine the Mord'Sith torturing her little sister for weeks without end, breaking her down until she was nothing but a loyal servant. It made her want to vomit. At the same time, it made her want to cry and scream – but more than anything, she wanted to ring her fingers around that disgusting creature's neck and condemn her to a slow and painful death. Her eyes darted towards the creature and she immediately lunged towards her, not even bothering to pull out her daggers; her hands were all she needed.

Kahlan's actions surprised the two other women in the room, but the shock was hardly enough to outwit Denna. The moment Kahlan's hands made contact, Denna brought her agiels from behind her back and made to attack. However, before the agiels could connect with the Confessor's flesh, she grabbed at the Mord'Sith's arms and attempted to push her back towards the wall. Denna stumbled back a bit, the vengeful Confessor's weight throwing her balance.

"What have you done to her?!" she shouted as she continued in her attempt to disarm her adversary. She then managed to hold one of Denna's arms above her head and as she pulled it down behind the Mord'Sith's back, her free hand reached for her neck.

As she saw the hatred boil in the Confessor's eyes, Denna brought up her knee, slamming it hard into her opponent's groin. Kahlan yelped in pain, causing her to loosen her grip which allowed Denna the opportunity to swing her around, effectively switching their positions.

As she watched the scene unfolding before her, Dennee didn't know what to do. Under normal circumstances, intercepting the fight would be a simple solution, but these were far from normal circumstances; the only two women she cared for in the world were fighting to the death and she could do nothing but scream, needing desperately to protect the newborn child in her arms.

"I will make you pay for this – for everything you've done." The Mother Confessor's voice dropped to a venomous tone as she began to illustrate the Mord'Sith's impending death.

They could both hear Dennee's protestant cries in the background, but the older Confessor disregarded her pleas, certain in her heart that she knew what had really happened here and that she would be the one to make it right. They continued to fight for an agonizingly long time, Dennee's heart pounding erratically as she remained seated, choosing to protect the infant rather than joining the other women (and, if she were honest, she was still in far too much pain to move even if not for the child in her arms). For their part, the battling women managed to drown out the new mother's cries, one focused on her belief that she knew best, while the other simply did what must be done to avoid certain death.

Then suddenly, the newborn's frail voice cried out.

That got their attention.

The two women halted their fight. Denna reluctantly released the Mother Confessor from her grip, though she kept near in case she had to restrain her should the need for the rest of her family to flee arise. Like a magnet, Kahlan found herself drawn towards the sound, causing her to step closer to her sister, curious to find the source of the voice.

The new mother sucked in a deep breath as the other Confessor approached, her throat felt dry from overuse and the tears had halted, beginning to dry on her flesh. Dennee bit her lip as her sister reached out to the bundle in her arms, and gentle as she was, Dennee couldn't help but flinch when her sister pulled the sheet from around the child.

The Mother Confessor's fingers gently caressed the delicate creature's cheek. The corner of her lips lifted slightly.

"Dennee…" her voice was no more than that of a whisper, "why didn't you –"

"Tell you?" she finished for her, her voice hoarser and more emotionally charged than she would have liked.

Kahlan nodded, still charmed by the small child.

"Because, I knew…" Dennee answered quietly, "That you could never accept her."

"But Dennee…" her voice was quiet, eyes focused solely on the child as she looked on in wonderment, "she's my niece."

"And her father –" she turned to look at Denna briefly, "she... well, she doesn't have a father; she has a mother – two mothers."

Kahlan simply stared for a moment, trying to soak it in. She just couldn't believe a word of it.

"Oh, I see." She scoffed, finally, "well played, little sister. You almost had me there, for a moment."

Dennee shook her head.

"Very funny." She said flatly, far from amused.

"It's not a joke, Kahlan."

The Mother Confessor's eyes grew wide, as the expression on her sister's face told her she was serious, "but… that's not even possible, Dennee…" She tilted her head to the side as she spoke, a conflicted smile plastered on her features.

"We don't understand it any better than you do," Dennee's eyes pleaded for understanding as she spoke, but the expression in those same eyes and the tone in her voice was tinted with sympathy at the same time. "But it is the truth."

"Surly there must be some explanation; two women simply cannot have a child on their own." Kahlan began, attempting to make some sense of this… whatever this was. "Besides, your powers would have killed her." The last word was laced with disgust as she allowed her eyes to sweep towards the Mord'Sith once more. She fought off the images that flashed through her mind, images of that... beast touching her sister. It repulsed her. None of this made any sense to her, and the only semi-rational conclusion she could bring herself to was that this was part of the leather tyrant's new plan. She must have tortured her or brainwashed her in some way, or perhaps this wasn't even her sister, perhaps she as well was an imposter…

"Dennea." Dennee's voice quietly broke through her train of thought. "Her name, your niece. Dennea Amnell. In case you were wondering."

The Mother Confessor looked up, catching her sister's eyes, her mouth hung open but before she could respond, there was a loud sound. A door, she realized, slamming shut. Followed by hurried footsteps and a shushing sound. Then there was silence. Kahlan was alarmed, but the other two women were... smiling? She tilted her head to the side, studying Dennee's expression, and then the thundering footsteps began again, the noise becoming louder as it made its way toward them. Until, at last, the door swung open again, less forcefully than when the Mother Confessor had entered, but still harsher than necessary. When finally she looked, she saw him, and he was most certainly not what she had expected. Standing there in the doorway was a little boy, no more than five or six years of age, blonde curly hair and a vibrant smile. He was clutching something in one hand as he stood there. He launched himself toward the Mord'Sith, who stood closest to the door, wrapped his arms around her torso and asked excitedly, "is she here? Is she?"

Denna, for her part, smiled down at the boy before crouching down and returning the embrace. "Yes." she answered, finally, "but you have to be very quiet. Is that understood?" He pulled away, still holding onto her shoulders and nodded. "Good." She tapped his nose, and it was an incredibly gentle, almost maternal sight to see. Kahlan was, once again, dumbstruck. Part of her wondered if perhaps, she were in some sort of strange dream.

Another woman appeared at the door then, leaning on the doorway, panting heavily as she attempted to catch her breath. "I'm so sorry, Confessor. He ran so fast, I couldn't catch up."

"It's fine, Amelia." Dennee waved her off, "he can stay now, you're free to go if you'd like." The other woman bowed gratefully, thanked the Confessor, and left.

"Come here, Edwin." Dennee spoke to the boy, and he did, slowly and a little too carefully. It was quite adorable. The Mord'Sith trailed behind him, moving closer to her family, but still keeping a safe distance, still completely prepared should she need to fight once more. Dennee whispered in his ear after he kissed her cheek and when he broke away, he looked up to the Mother Confessor in awe, that bright smile still in place.

"Hello, Aunt Kahlan!" He grinned as he waved at her. She smiled back, finally regaining some of her composure as she finally realized why he looked so familiar. He was the baby, Lucinda's baby. "Hello, Edwin." she replied and then turned to her sister, whispering, "he's grown so much..."

Dennee simply closed her eyes and nodded, offering her sister a tentative smile before turning back to the boy, "and this," she moved closer to the boy, revealing the bundle in her arms, "is your baby sister."

"Wow." he looked down at the child in wonder, hesitantly reaching out to touch her cheek. He pulled his hand away fairly quickly, afraid to harm the child in any way. Without a word he gently set the toy he had been clutching since his arrival on his mother's arm, right next to the baby. It was the doll, she recognized, that she had seen upon entering. Though it looked somewhat cleaner, and was now wearing a different dress. She couldn't help the smile that graced her lips. If she ignored the Mord'Sith - and she was, at that moment, doing precisely that - then she could appreciate how incredibly beautiful the scene before her was. Her sister was  _happy_ , really and truly happy like she'd never seen her before.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know, I know. It's been, what, a year? Oops. No, let me actually explain that. I had all four parts nearly complete ages ago, but then my computer crashed and I lost everything. By the time I got a new computer I just couldn't bring myself to rewrite it... until now, because I recently found an old rough draft that had this part and a few notes on the last two parts. I'm not sure now if I'll be re-writing the last two parts, though. They skip ahead several months and then years, so really, I could end this here. Anyways, thank you for reading!


End file.
